


Pixie Dust Not Required

by Alex_Chesterfield



Category: Original Work, Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Family, Implied/Referenced Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 03:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14560353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Chesterfield/pseuds/Alex_Chesterfield
Summary: “Well, you certainly grew up quick.”“And you haven’t changed a bit.”





	Pixie Dust Not Required

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dialogue Prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/379110) by plotsandpromptsforall. 



“Well, you certainly grew up quick.”

“And you haven’t changed a bit.”

Peter smirked up at Wendy, all sparkling blue eyes and tousled dirty blonde hair. He jumped up onto a shelf and giggled, taking a hold of a snow globe as the young woman chided him.

“Awe, shucks, can you blame me?” he inquired with an arch of his brow. “Being little is fun. Why would I want to change?”

Wendy shook her head, red curls bouncing this way and that, and she closed the door to her bedroom, the bundle of blankets still in her arms as she sat down in the rocking chair. “No, no, I understand.” she tutted, staring down into her arms.

“Yeah, but all that adult stuff is–” The boy stopped short in his musings, blinking like a lightbulb had flashed in front of his eyes. He leaned over the edge, peering down at the woman. “Wait. You understand? You–  _Wendy_ …”

“Oh, you hush with that,” Wendy said, glaring up at the young boy on the shelf. “You  _did_ try to warn me, and I didn’t listen, but all the same, that does  _not_ give you excuse to taunt me for my decision to come home.”

“No, no no no, I wasn’t going to do  _that_. It’s just that… everyone I’ve come to visit when they grew up… they were all so  _happy_ when I asked them how they were doing. ‘I don’t regret coming home for a  _second_ ,’ they always tell me, and they’re always  _sneering_  and treating me like I’m stupid. But you..?”

“They’re all lying to you, Peter.” The woman sighed, resting her head in a hand as she continued to rock. “None of the adults really are happy. There’s just too much to worry about, and no time for play or relaxing. I won’t go into all of the details– I don’t want to bore you. You came to visit, and I’m being a very ungracious host.”

Wendy stood, bundle of blankets still held neatly in her arms, and she made her way across the room. Peter rolled off of the shelf and hovered over her shoulder, watching her curiously, before he caught sight of what she was walking towards. His jaw gaped when that bundle of blankets was settled into a little crib, and she rocked the wooden bed lightly before turning and walking out of the room. Upon seeing Peter’s flabbergasted expression, Wendy chuckled.

“Oh, come now, don’t tell me you’ve never seen a  _baby_ before. And don’t worry about talking– Little Jane is a  _very_ deep sleeper. Come on; let me get you something to eat.”

She exited the room quietly. Peter remained still, but his shadow was already flying out of the room after Wendy. The boy shook his head to recollect his senses, and rushed after, to both catch up to Wendy  _and_ his shadow.

 

* * *

 

It had been a very,  _very_ long time since Peter had had cookies and tea. He was offered the whole plate, and immediately didn’t know what to do with himself. He blushed and shrunk down into his seat shyly, to which Wendy only chuckled kindly.

“Come now, I promise they aren’t poisoned,” she teased, and she pushed the cup towards him as well, closer for his little boy arms to reach.

Peter still sat stock still, momentarily, but a split second later, he had two cookies in his hands, and one was gone within a few seconds. At the sight of this, Wendy burst into mirthful laughter, but the young boy ignored her in favor of the food in his hands.

“Oh, Peter…”

The boy went through five cookies, before coming to the realization that Wendy was staring at him with a rather peculiar look. He stopped his gobbling, chewing thoughtfully on what he had already in his mouth before swallowing.

“Why are you looking at me funny?” Peter asked, eyes narrowed and crumbs falling from his cheeks.

Wendy sighed, and the smile in her face melted away, even from her eyes, until all that remained was… melancholy. 

“How are the Lost Boys, Peter? How many are there now?”

“Oh. Well, Tootles went home with you…”

“Yes, and I made certain Tootles went to a good orphanage. Now he’s a judge; he was the clergyman for my wedding.”

“Ah.” Peter frowned, but only momentarily. “Well, so that’s Tootles, Nibs, Slightly, Curly, and the Twins all grew up, but there’s new Lost Boys now, so that’s okay. Now we’ve got Dandy, Lily, Feeble, Ratty, Peg, and Rusty and Shiny. We found Dandy in a dandelion field crying, so that’s how he got that name, Lily was by a pond and kept petting all the frogs– she was slimy for a  _week_. Feeble has a nasty cough and has a hard time breathing, but he knows how to  _read_. He teaches all of us pretty good when we find books. Ratty wouldn’t let anyone touch her for a whole  _month_ , and then she wouldn’t even talk for a good few after that. She doesn’t eat very much with us, but when she thinks we’re all asleep, she has a feast, I tell you. When we first met Peg, we all thought she was related to Hook somehow, but it was just her leg and us being stupid suspicious. She’s pretty nice. Then Rusty and Shiny are basically the new twins. Rusty finds old things, and Shiny fixes them up…”

Wendy listened to all of this with a gentle, patient smile on her face. Peter eventually trailed off, looking down at his plate of cookies with a frown.

“Is something the matter, Wendy? You’re awfully quiet.”

And the woman remained as such, for a moment longer. When she did speak up, her voice was small, as if she was a little girl again.

“I’m very unhappy, Peter. My husband… he is not the good man I thought him to be when I first married him. He is very cold, and distant. He is not kind to me or to Jane. If I had known this was what was coming to me, I would have stayed in Neverland longer. Forever, if you would have let me. But I’m old, now– I can’t come back.”

Peter nodded sadly. “You can’t come back to Neverland, but you could run away.”

“Ah, and so I wish. But I would have nothing left. I cannot save myself from this, Peter; I’ve sealed my fate the moment I accepted his proposal.”

Wendy’s gaze turned to her daughter’s bedroom.

“… but Jane… Jane is still just a baby. Jane is going to grow up.”

The woman paused, before regarding Peter carefully.

“… I don’t want my baby to grow up, Peter.”

Peter nodded sadly again… before his eyes widened, and he and Wendy shared a knowing look with varying expressions.

“I– I can’t take a baby–”

“And you do not have to,” the woman added quickly, to calm the young boy. “You do not have to take her so young. You do not have to take her at all–”

“But I want to!”

“Peter. Please calm down.”

And so the boy did, and Wendy continued.

“I do not want my little girl to grow up. At the very least, not here. Not with a tired mother and an unloving father. She deserves better. More. She deserves to be happy, like I was not.”

Wendy stood slowly, and beckoned once again for Peter to follow her. The two of them walked side by side back to Jane’s room. Wendy opened the door, and gestured for Peter to walk to the crib. Hesitantly, the boy did as he was asked. As he peered over the edge inside, to the pudgy little face and the red little nose…

“I will not let my legacy of servitude and sadness continue. My children, young or old– because my husband  _will_ ask for another once it’s clear Jane won’t be coming home– deserve more than this. Peter… I have no right to ask this of you, but… I wish for my children to be Lost Children. I have no pixie dust to make such a wish, but–”

“You don’t need that,” Peter insisted, whirling around and taking Wendy’s hand firmly in two of his. “You don’t need pixie dust to make a request I can  _easily_ fill. Wendy, no matter  _how many_ children you have, I will take them. I will take them all. They’ll be safe with me, and they’ll grow up to do great things.”

The motherly woman sighed with such heavy relief, Peter feared for a moment she would pass out. “Peter, I… words cannot express–”

But the boy had already turned back to the baby in the crib, and was whispering to her, “Don’t you worry; I’ll be watching, and when the time is right, I’ll get you out of here. You’re going to be okay. We’ll be best friends, okay? You’ll  _never_ have to grow up, if you don’t want. I’ll make sure of it. And if you do, I’ll make sure you’re  _really smart_  and ready for  _anything_. I understand.  _I understand_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: <http://chesterfield-ramblings.tumblr.com/>
> 
> Twitter: <https://twitter.com/AlexChester_X_>
> 
> Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alexchester_x_


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